


Watch Over Me

by keelywolfe



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeping watch at night whilst on the road is quite an important task. Though perhaps it should have been specified precisely what should be watched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just in a porny mood this week, I suppose! Not sure the plot could get thinner if there even is a plot. I just have a terrible weakness for these two hooking up on the way to Erebor, despite how unlikely it seems.

* * *

All the Dwarves took turns keeping watch. While there were some tasks that seemed centered on a certain Dwarf, Bombur was the cook, for example, and Gloin was always keenly building the fire, Bilbo had noted that keeping the watch at night was a task equally divided, if not equally enjoyed. Bilbo had sat up with them a time or two himself, smoking quietly and watching the flicker of fire's light against stone or branch. It should have been that there were enough Dwarves to go around that no one should lose much sleep. Should have been, yet, to Bilbo's eye there were a few Dwarves that sat up more often than others. 

Dwalin, for one, was often awake when Bilbo woke late in the night, whether from a need for a private moment behind the bushes or simply a sound from the woods had woken him. Fíli and Kíli were often up earlier in the evening, a matched set for Bilbo could not recall ever seeing one up without the other. 

That Thorin also sat up, watchful and silent in the night shouldn't be a surprise either, he supposed. Thorin slept lightly, sword always at his side, and Bilbo often woke in their shared bedroll alone, searching the darkness with squinted eyes until he caught sight of a familiar shape against a tree or rock, pipe glowing in the darkness.

To see him was always enough to soothe Bilbo's thundering heart, settling his hairstrung nerves back down enough for him to fall back into sleep and tonight was no exception. A squint through the fire-tinted darkness told him Thorin was close by and Bilbo took a moment to stretch, gathering a blanket before walking over to him on silent feet. Perhaps Thorin raised a brow in question, perhaps not; Bilbo really couldn't say, since he wasn't entirely sure his eyes had been open at the time. Instead, Bilbo sank down next to him, tucking his blanket around him as he settled on his side to sleep. 

The feel of someone lifting the blanket behind him and settling snugly against his back had his eyes open quickly enough. A quick glance told him that while it was certainly Thorin who'd slipped into his makeshift bed, none of the others had risen to take his place.

"Thorin?" Bilbo said, a bare whisper.

"Aye." Well, at least it was good to confirm it was indeed Thorin and not some wily creature of the night that had joined him.

"You're supposed to be keeping watch," Bilbo hissed, utterly scandalized for Thorin was quite strict on the matter. 

"I'm watching," Thorin murmured. Something that Bilbo sincerely doubted was possible unless Thorin had more than the normal allotment of eyes because his face was currently buried into Bilbo's neck. The wet, soft touch of his mouth made Bilbo squirm and he felt Thorin groan, his hands tightening on Bilbo's hips, pulling him between Thorin's legs and hitching him back into his lap. 

"You…" Bilbo swallowed hard, biting his lip as Thorin rocked against him, grinding the hardness bound by his trousers against Bilbo's backside. Oh, this was...they'd hardly had a true moment alone since they'd begun sharing a bedroll and neither had been willing to offer their traveling companions a saucy view. Here, though, in the dark with the others snoring away-- "You…" he tried again, rasping out, "…are…not. Not watching."

"You're so sure of that?" So very close to his ear, more breath than words. Bilbo sighed, tipping his head to the side as the tip of a tongue stroked against his ear, sliding up from the lobe to the sensitive tip and he thrashed helplessly as Thorin closed his mouth over the point, sucking gently. "I assure you, I am watching very, very closely."

"You aren't," Bilbo moaned, thready and low. He scrabbled a hand backward until he found Thorin's knee, his fingernails digging into the fine fabric as strong hands shifted him, dragging him down. 

"Shhhhhh. And aye, I am. I watch you, constantly." Thorin drew one hand up Bilbo's side, slipping beneath his shirt to palm the bare, soft skin, stretching his fingers wide as though he liked the feel of it. "I watch you as you walk alongside us, when you pause to look at our surroundings. I watch your face as you listen to the others speak, as you think of questions, as you puzzle things out in your way. I watch you watching me, little Hobbit, and I wonder at what you see."

Bilbo doubted he could express what it was he saw when he looked at Thorin even if his throat wasn't thick with desire, choked off little whimpers held back as best he could manage. Could he explain the tightness in his chest when he looked at Thorin, when he took in the weary dignity Thorin wore as though it were a cloak, the distant longing in his eyes when he spoke of Erebor? Words seemed too feeble to express the hard thump of his heart whenever Thorin cast his soft smile at anyone, and when it was sent in Bilbo's direction, his heart pounded like a spring thunderstorm. 

In the end, Bilbo said nothing, cast his words out to be muffled by his own palm as he covered his mouth with his hand. Thick fingers worked nimbly at the fastenings his trousers, opening them and beneath his cock was eager, all but leaping into the cool hand Thorin offered. Without thinking, Bilbo reached with his free hand, covering Thorin's with his own as he slotted their fingers together, the two of them stroking him for a glorious moment. 

It wasn't enough, not nearly enough and Bilbo shifted restlessly, moving, and Thorin let him go instantly without a word nor protest, sitting up at once. That silent care made something hot and tight clench in Bilbo's chest. For all the Dwarves were rough and tumbling amongst themselves, none had ever hurt him and Thorin had never tried to hold him, never tried to coax more than Bilbo was willing to offer and that was more than Bilbo had gotten from certain Hobbits. 

He did not hesitate, wriggling around in Thorin's lap until he could straddle him, knees on either side of Thorin's hips. He said nothing as Bilbo fumbled between them, working his trousers open, only made a soft sound as Bilbo slipped a hand inside to find his shaft thick and hot, damp against Bilbo's palm. 

Carefully, Bilbo shuffled closer, until he could press their cocks together and Thorin let out a quiet, stuttering sigh, his hands moving restlessly over Bilbo as though they were unable to find a place to settle. They drifted through his hair as Bilbo stroked them, tightened on his shoulders when Bilbo dragged his thumb over the tips to slick through the eager wetness beading there, and finally one drew down to join Bilbo's. A large, strong hand tightening around Bilbo's, fingers threading between his own to shift his hand faster, jerking them with a roughness that Bilbo would not have dared. 

A cry was burbling up from Bilbo's throat, one that he could not stifle and had it gotten loose it might have rent through the air, waking the others. Instead, Thorin caught it in his own mouth, his hand near large enough to cover the back of Bilbo's head as he pulled him roughly in, covering his lips with his own. Bilbo whimpered against the hot pressure of his mouth, felt the deep, answering vibration as Thorin moaned and the sudden wet rush falling over his hand and cock in hot streaks made whiteness shine behind his eyes, the knowledge that Thorin had come on him, that slick wetness was his pleasure. Bilbo shook at the sweet rush of it, slumping dazedly against Thorin's chest, his own hand useless and it was Thorin who took him to the end, his hand still working gently, drawing the pleasure to the fineness of a blade before letting go. 

"You are very lovely like that," Thorin murmured, only the barest sound and Bilbo blushed to the roots of his hair. 

"I suppose you were watching," Bilbo muttered, drawing back. He searched through his pockets, fumbling out the ragged piece of cloth Bofur had tossed to him that long ago morning they'd begun their journey to clean off his hand. Wordlessly, he took Thorin's and cleaned his as well, rubbing gently between each finger. 

Thorin watched him, his eyes a faint gleam in the moonlight. "I was. I told you I was watching." He slid one thick finger beneath Bilbo's chin, tipping his head up and he leaned in to murmur, "And I would watch you again. I would watch your face as I pressed inside you, as I took you, I would watch you cry out as I put my mouth upon you." Lips pressed against Bilbo's jaw, teeth nibbling and Bilbo let his eyes flutter shut, listening to the warm flow of words over him. "I want to watch the way you writhe beneath me as I have you or the stretch of your mouth as you swallow me down. I want to see you, Master Baggins, every part of you, in my bed, against my body. Everything."

"Oh," Bilbo said, such a small word in such a small voice and he wavered, leaning into Thorin…who jerked back, a frown creasing his brow. 

"Just now, though, I think I am not the only one watching," Thorin said, his voice dry. Only his hand on Bilbo's chin kept him from looking wildly around and slowly, he moved Bilbo's head himself, until he could see two heads that were no longer pillowed on arms or coats. He imagined young eyes peering through the darkness, watching them gleefully, and hoped that Dwarven vision wasn't as keen in the darkness as Thorin had led him to believe. 

Thorin made an exasperate sound, tugging and pulling Bilbo's clothes into order before attending to his own. He pushed Bilbo to his feet, holding him until he was steady upon them before standing himself, stretching until his joints popped. With a gentle nudge, he pushed Bilbo to walk before him, guiding him with a hand between his shoulders back to the bedrolls. 

"Fíli, Kíli," Thorin said, low, "I think the two of you can keep watch for a time."

"Of course," Fíli said, echoed by his brother as he rolled smoothly to his feet. "We will certainly manage as well as you, Uncle."

"Perhaps better," Kíli chimed in. "Bilbo, would you care to—"

Fíli cuffed him roughly on the back of the head, muttering beneath his breath as he dragged his brother to the edge of camp. 

Thorin only shook his head, not seeming to notice that Bilbo was trying to die from embarrassment as quietly as possible so that he might be spared waking any of the others to share in this moment. Instead, he settled down on his bedroll, tugging Bilbo down alongside him and he went, blushing and flustered, yet he went all the same. 

"Get some sleep," Thorin said, softly, and settled Bilbo against his chest.

"So that you might watch me then as well?" Bilbo asked, sleepily, and beneath his cheek Thorin's chest rose in a silent chuckle.

"I will watch over you, certainly." A large hand settled on Bilbo's back, rubbing gently and under his ear Thorin hummed tunelessly, a low, rumbling drone that soothed Bilbo into sleep, regardless of who might be watching him. 

 

finis


End file.
